


Dare I Hope (Dare I Pray, Dare I Ask)

by Lil_Redhead



Series: Shirbert Oneshot + Drabble Collection [22]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: 3x08 divergent, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff to the max, ft. a good 'ol love confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Redhead/pseuds/Lil_Redhead
Summary: Instead of leaving her confession letter on the table, Anne gives it right to Hazel to deliver to Gilbert. (A 3x08 speculation story of what would have happened if Gilbert had Anne’s letter.)
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Series: Shirbert Oneshot + Drabble Collection [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1075275
Comments: 39
Kudos: 374





	Dare I Hope (Dare I Pray, Dare I Ask)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! School's been kicking my butt, but I'm on spring break. I've been wanting to update The Secret of Distance, but I needed a little something to get all the academic writing-ness out of my system, so I used this as an exercise. This story was in part inspired by an anon pal on tumblr, as well as a post by @mostlyfangirling on tumblr. I’ve linked it in the tumblr post for this story if you’d like to read it! (lightly edited, but typos are inevitable, forgive me!) 
> 
> Title from the song: "I Awoke" by James Yorkston

Anne emerged from over the hill with the same insistence of Avonlea’s morning sun and its fuschia blush on her cheeks. Hazel nearly mistook her for the horizon as a golden halo turned her into a dancing silhouette across the yard. Yet the closer Anne grew to the house, the more the characteristics of a normal human girl fell back onto her—a wasp’s nest for hair, a disheveled apron, a bottomless depth in the souls of her eyes. She came upon the door, meeting Hazel’s inquisitive gaze with a friendly grin through the porch window. 

“Hello!” came Anne’s muffled voice through the pane. Hazel straightened her back, wiping her dusty palms on her dress before opening the door. The second the door cracked open, she was nearly swept away by whatever anxious, palpable energy emanated from the girl. Yet the girl’s presence was far from uncomfortable, and even bore something warm, almost on fire. Fumbling with her hands, Anne began to speak. “You must be Mrs. Hazel! I am ever so honored to meet your acquaintance. Every time our family grows by one member, I cannot help but be selfishly glad for it. I’m Anne Shirley-Cuthbert!” Anne peered around Hazel’s shoulder. “Is Gilbert in?” 

Hazel knew it was only a matter of time before the ladies would begin to come knocking after the young Blythe boy, no matter how many times Bash insisted he was already spoken for. She just didn’t suppose Gilbert’s suitors would be wildflowers popped up from the ground come to life in girl form. 

“He’s gone to town on some errands,” was all Hazel could think to say. 

Anne’s shoulders slumped as if something in her core had cracked. There had to be something that could be done. Agonizing over a solution, she tapped her foot to expel her nervousness and cut the silence. Maybe she could go to the train station to meet him, or wait here so that when he returned, she’d be the first thing he’d see. There were such wonderful blossoms along the way. What if she were to pluck a few for him? Would he even appreciate such a gesture? 

“Are you sick?” Hazel’s voice broke in. Anne’s face snapped up to hers, and suddenly she could feel her confidence draining from her from a hole in her heart. Was she sick? Anne supposed she was, in the worst way a girl could be. What was she _thinking_ coming here?

But she wasn’t thinking. That was the truth of it. She was burning alive, and she always would be if she didn’t tell Gilbert that she loved him right now. Today. 

“Do you suppose I could write him a message?” she sputtered, startling Hazel with her urgency. “I have something to tell him of such importance that neglecting it would certainly be one of my life’s biggest regrets.” 

“Whatever it is, I could pass along the message.” 

“It really is something he should hear directly from me. I can’t risk him misunderstanding me twice.” From the doorway, Anne’s eyes caught Gilbert’s stack of paper and his homework pen sitting across the kitchen. “I’ll only be a second.” 

With the paper before her and the quill in her hand, Anne could feel the turmoil of affection bubbling inside of her, a hurricane of inarticulable words that begged for meaning. How fast could her hand write that she had spent every minute of their friendship admiring him with such a fury that she once misinterpreted it as disdain? That the thought of his smile and gentle support made it difficult to walk, to breathe? That she had been completely devoured by her desire for him, so much so that she couldn’t remember a time without it? 

Yet Anne wrote the simplest words she’d ever put to paper: “ _Dear Gilbert, I’m sorry I was confused before. I’m not anymore. I love you. -Anne.”_

There it was, immortalized in the paper, unable to be erased from existence. Was that truly all she wanted to say? Everything else, she supposed, could be explained in person. Then, with a jolt, she remembered to write one last thing down. “ _P.S. Could I please have my pen back_?”

Anne folded the paper with a gentle touch, writing Gilbert’s name across the front. Then, turning to Hazel, she said in a heavy voice, “Mrs. Hazel, please guard this letter with your life and ensure that it gets to Gilbert for me please. I would owe you greatly for such an imposition, but I’ve waited long enough to tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Hazel heard herself asking, surprising herself at her own prodding. 

Anne’s cheeks took the same color as azaleas, soft underneath her freckles.

“I’m certain you could wager a guess.” 

Hazel accepted the letter. It was weighty even to the touch, and for a split second, she wondered if there was more to Anne than what met the human eye. 

“Yes, I think I can do as much.” It was a promise between women, between alike souls that knew how to love. 

Anne pressed her lips together and nodded her appreciation, a praise of undying gratitude caught in her throat.

She was caught in the doorway when she turned to leave, eyes still fixed on the letter in Hazel’s hand. No part of her wanted to tear it away, toss it to the rambling wind to be forgotten. Gilbert would know, and whatever change to their friendship resulted, Anne was prepared to accept fate.

With one last glance of appreciation, Anne took Hazel’s hands and kissed the woman’s cheek. “Thank you, kind Hazel.” 

And then, seeping back into the horizon from where she came, Anne disappeared into the orange-haloed hills. 

*

Gilbert sailed into the house, laughing his way into the kitchen and right past the letter on the table. His lungs were sails full of air and his brow was damp from the hot summer. He collapsed into the chair on the other side of the kitchen near Delly, and the door opened with a fury, revealing an even more exhausted Sebastian. 

“Laugh all you want, Blythe, but any boy can win a sprint race. The real test is the endurance run, a man’s sport! Don’t forget you promised to help me with the fence repairs, then we’ll see who's got dead bones.” 

“Like you’d ever let me forget.” 

The young boy was too busy rolling down his sleeves to wipe away his sweat to see Hazel slip the letter from the table and hide it behind her back. She approached Gilbert with caution, and knowing that it bore such importance was careful not to crease the important correspondence in her hands. Gilbert looked up at her with his eyes the color of the the island - its blue skies, its red soil, its green tree tops. He cocked his head as Hazel kept her expression stone cold, hiding what she knew behind it. 

“Hazel, is something wrong?” 

“No,” she said shortly. “A letter came for you today.” 

He must’ve recognized his own stationary when it was placed into his hands, as well as the script across the front, because an immediate reverence softened his grasp. 

“It’s from Anne.” He stared at it in his palm. 

“Well, are you going to open it?” Bash exasperated. 

“I don’t know if I want to. The last time I saw her...” Gilbert ran the pads of his fingers over the paper for a split second before swallowing the lump in his throat and unfolding the letter.

Gilbert was all but brought to his knees. His eyes somehow zeroed in on the words “ _I_ _love you”_ and his stomach filled with hurricane winds or butterflies, turning him a man seconds away from taking flight. He shot to his feet, his inarticulate mouth gaping to say something, but coming up blank. All that came out was a relieved, half-sobbed burst of laughter. 

Anne _loved_ him! She loved him and she wrote it down with her own hand and left it for him to read. She loved him and she told him, even though he’d made her think he’d completely moved on to someone else because she _loved_ him enough to hope. All the compromises in his head where he promised himself he’d grow to love Winifred were so terribly wrong, so impossibly hopeless. He knew what he _really_ wanted, has always known, but now that it had been lit on fire by Anne’s returned love that, the truth could do nothing but burn brighter. 

He wanted to race out into the yard, throw up his arms, and spin around until he collapsed on the ground with dizziness. But first he had to see Anne!

“How long ago was she here?” he rushed out. 

“This morning,” Hazel replied. 

Gilbert beelined out of the door, jumping over his two steps and set to the ground running as fast as he could. Somehow the tall grass at his sides in the fields was so much softer than it had been, and the breeze comfortably cool as it whizzed in his ears. All of nature, it seemed, had begun to rejoice with him, sweeping under his feet and hurrying him along. 

When Green Gables came into view, all the wind in his lungs disappeared. He stumbled to a halt, gaze melting when he saw Anne sitting on the bench outside her front door. Her nose was buried into a book and one of her hands was reaching over the edge of the porch, moving slowly to catch some of the afternoon sun. The sight caused Gilbert’s heart to expand so fully in his chest that it almost hurt against his ribs. 

He crept forward slowly, reminding himself how to walk. The movement caught Anne’s attention, and she froze. Gilbert hoped he was smiling, hoped that he was giving her some indication that his arrival here was a good thing. But his expression was heavy with the better feelings of his heart, indecipherable to Anne, who looked like she was seconds away from fleeing inside. She set her book aside and moved to the edge of the porch, waiting for him to say something. 

There were a thousand different words on the tip of his tongue— _Surely you must know how much I...You never said anything about...I was so sure that you’d never...Please accept me as I am, please please plea—_ but they remained unsaid. The longer he stood unmoving, the more Anne’s face fell. 

Then, Gilbert remembered the letter that hadn’t left his hands and the pen that he’d been keeping in his pocket. He turned the parchment over, and with Anne’s fountain pen wrote out the only thing he could _._ He set both his confession and the pen in her shaking hands, and watched her eyes fall upon the paper. There were only four words to read.

_I love you too._

“ _So_ much,” he managed to whisper. Anne’s ice blue eyes were clear and glossy, but a small smile dimpled her cheeks and Gilbert released a small sigh. 

“Really?” she said softly. His throat felt thick, but he blinked the blurriness from his eyes and nodded. Anne lowered her forehead onto his, her presence a balm on every ache he’d ever felt, and he smiled as he leaned up to meet her. He wondered if a man could drown in happiness. 

“It’s always been you, Anne. From the very first day, it’s only been you.” 

He was a split second away from closing the distance between them when Anne took a hesitant step back. She bit her lip, her gaze falling to the floor beside her feet. 

“What about Winifred?” 

Gilbert blinked. He hadn’t had a chance to think that far ahead. Once he’d read her letter, he was like a man crazed to get here, to see her. His heart sunk in his chest at the vulnerable hope on her face. He reached for her hands and squeezed them gently.

“I’ll have to talk to Winifred as soon as possible. It’s long overdue.” 

“What do you mean?” 

His thumb ran over his knuckles as he spoke. 

“In some ways, loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. In other ways, I’m profoundly inexperienced in the reality of love. I thought that because there was no chance for you and I, that I would have to grow to learn to love someone else. But the more time passed, the more I was hopelessly yours, and always would be. I should’ve known that real, genuine love is something you can’t just ignore.” He pulled her hand up to his cheek, then turned to kiss it. “I’m just relieved that I won’t have to pretend anymore.” He paused, meeting her eyes. “Will I?” 

“No,” Anne replied warmly. “I think you and I have spent long enough dancing around each other. I won’t lock up what I’m feeling either.” 

“So does that mean that when everything is cleared away you and I…?” 

“I hope so,” Anne confessed.

Gilbert’s smile was pure gold. Every ounce of desire he thought he had to marry into a wealthy family and go off to the Sorbonne disappeared, never having existed in the first place. There were only visions in his head of this his home on Canadian soil and the family he was unknowingly building with Anne for years now. Days of holding Anne, tasting her smile were finally within reach.

Yet, everything he wanted to do in that moment, he couldn’t. Not until he talked to Winifred. It wouldn’t be easy, he knew. Winnie was so kind, and had never given him any reason to complain. He’d wronged her so cruelly, and had ignored the truth of it. 

Anne was able to read his face like a book, and offered him a sad smile. 

“If you go now, you can catch the earlier train into Charlottetown so you won’t be rushing to make the last one. Take your time to say what you need to and hear what she’ll say in return,” she offered. 

Gilbert sighed. The more Anne spoke, the more he admired her, gravitated to her kind heart. Lovesickness had his heart in its unforgiving grasp, but it was best he’d ever felt. 

“Maybe when I come back, we can go for a walk?” he said hopefully. Anne bit her lip, a blush forming sweetly on her cheeks. 

“That sounds nice.” 

From the corner of his eye, Gilbert caught a glance of the curtains moving in the window. Marilla stood half hidden behind the wall with a tender expression on her face as she comprehended what was happening on her porch. He tipped his head in respect then turned back to Anne.

“I have a train to catch,” he said a bit sadly. Anne nodded in understanding, stepping back to make the separation easier on them both. Gilbert’s feet mindlessly carried him a few paces away, but he paused and glanced over his shoulder. Anne stood where he’d left her, bathed in ethereal, dusky light, the letter still in her hands. 

He crossed the distance in two short strides and took the letter from her hand. Then, as carefully as if he were harvesting a delicate flower from the garden, Gilbert tore his own confession off along the creased seam, and closed Anne’s hands over it. 

“So you don't doubt or forget,” he murmured. Affection filled her eyes, sending a thrill down his back. Anne then took the rest of the letter in his hands, folded it, and slid it into his breast pocket.

“So you remember what has always been true,” she replied.

Lighter and more radiant than he’d ever been before, Gilbert fixed one last lingering glance on the one face he loved best and made his way down the drive. 

*

Gilbert made good on his promise to come see Anne for a walk. Anne had seen him crossing the fields between the Cuthbert and Blythe-Lacroix farms from the window, and knew without asking that his talk with Winifred had gone longer and worse than he expected. But the moment he laid his eyes on her, his shoulders lifted and he sped up even more. 

They walked along the banks of the creek, watching dragonflies fly from one stepping stone to another and speaking the way new lover’s do—the whole world new at their feet. 

Later, when the sun shone on the horizon, they settled underneath a crowned sycamore tree slowly venturing closer and closer to each other. Gilbert drew shapes onto the back of her hand as she spoke about her recent discoveries.

“-and apparently Diana knew the whole time, or at least she suspected, but as soon as she said it, I realized how foolish I’d been. It’s funny how one minute your entire life is veiled, and the next, all the colors are brand new.” She paused, catching Gilbert’s heavy gaze. “What is it?” 

Gilbert said nothing. He only crossed into her space until they shared the same air, and waited for permission. Anne sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers finding his jaw and gently running over the dimples of his smile. Then, as reverent as a prayer, she closed the distance and kissed him. Gilbert dissolved under her touch, reaching for her waist and pressing her closer to him. 

When they pulled apart, Anne could still taste the apple sweetness of him on her lips and couldn’t stop herself from placing honeydrop kisses along his cheek. She felt his hand travel down her back and shivered. 

“This is different,” she admitted as Gilbert’s head fell against hers.

“Good different?” 

Anne grinned and kissed him again. When she placed her hand on his chest, she realized in the vaguest awareness of her mind there was a thin piece of paper all folded up above his heart. She pressed herself up close to him and hoped that maybe he’d feel hers in the same place. **_  
_**

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you wanna chat, drop a comment or come find me on tumblr ~ @royalcordelia


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